Asunder
by Harlequin Kitsune
Summary: The tale of Karis, young Ratonga Brigand as life brings her through a winding maze of decisions, deceptions, and delights. Her dependence on others leads her down many different paths as she tries to learn where she fits in the world.
1. Departure

**Chapter One: Departure**

It was the dark of night – hours before the sun was to rise and the time when good little children should have been sleeping soundly.

Not many Freeportians are good little children.

The orphanage door creaked open and the soft pitter-patter of sneaking paws joined the quiet symphony of the night. Nose raised high in the air, Nis tiptoed into the dark. The young Ratonga had a bulging pack over her right shoulder and her left hand on the hilt of her sword. She was swathed in black cloth so her pale fur would not stand out against the shadows, and tiny holes in her large ears gave evidence to one of several sacrifices made of her appearance to ensure her safe passage. Her long whispers twitched as she cast her gaze nervously about the empty streets. Satisfied with her present safety, she cast one small glance over her shoulder to the dilapidated building she had called home for far too long.

She was nearly old enough to be an adult, and missing orphans were never actually missed. She stared at the orphanage and made sure she felt no regret. Everyone would wake up in the morning, she assured herself, and not notice her disappearance for at least an hour, think she would be home by sunset, and finally guess she had gotten herself eaten by a Kerra after she did not come back. She would be forgotten, life would move on, and everything would be the same. Only she would be free. By the time they thought her dead, she would be starting her new life in Antonica, working for favor with Qeynos and the fair Queen Antonia Bayle.

Karis might notice the difference, Nis realized at once with a frown. The small Ratonga had found her way to Nis's clan just before it had been destroyed, and the girl was now sister to Nis, separated only by blood. Karis was young, though, Nis told herself. She would fret for some time; there was no doubt about that. She was attached to the older Ratonga, and probably could not yet imagine life without her. The matrons of the orphanage, however, would indefinitely use the incident to teach the naïve girl some lessons, such as how one should not put his trust in another, or to degrade her more, convincing her she was worthless. The lessons would pass, though, Karis would be more able to handle life, and she would slowly forget about Nis. And when Nis had forged a new home, she would be able to take Karis and they could live in peace.

Comforted by this far-away goal, Nis gave the place a forlorn smile as she shifted her pack and looked forward again. Temple Street – she had been brought there after Luclin had lit up the sky so brightly she lost her shadow for a moment, and then nights had been dark. Not even the dark could hide the horrors Nis found in every turn of the place. She could barely remember the wilderness she had called home – that was home before a large shard of Luclin had destroyed it – but she knew it was better than this. She wanted to return to beauty, to nature, and had been promised this by a quiet man in North Freeport. She had then decided to leave Freeport – though she had been offered weeks to make her final decision, she gave her answer in seconds. She had been ready for this once she had arrive in the dismal land, and her resolve had been set long ago. Trust had been forged, plans made, and it was time to leave. She nodded and started to walk.

She had not taken three steps before a pair of hands grabbed the back of her tunic.

Seized with terror, Nis drew her sword and spun around hard, hoping to dislodge her assailant and slash in a fluid movement. She felt the hands slip away from her tunic and finished her turn, eyes settling on her opponent. The moment she saw her attacker, she had to pull back hard on her sword to keep it from hitting its target.

Karis!

"Where is Nis goings?" asked the small Ratonga now cowering on the ground in front of Nis. With a suppressed curse and a quiet sigh, Nis sheathed her sword and knelt down. She put her hands on her sister's shoulders. The two could hardly be thought of as related when seen together – not only did they not share any blood; they looked as different as night and day. Where Nis had a strong, tall frame for a Ratonga and was clad in pale fur, Karis seemed to have more neutral traits – a tiny frame and dual-toned, dark fur.

These inherit differences, however, did not deter Karis from trying to look like her older sister. A patch of pale skin on her chest attested to her botched attempt to get an apprentice mage to whiten her fur – a mistake that wound up with a ball of fire singeing the fur off her chest and nearly killed her. Karis was not one to learn from her mistakes, however. After Nis had been fitted with large hoop earrings, Karis got her ears pierced, too – the result of which was her ears drooping comically under the weight of the shoddy but heavy rings. She soon got smaller hoops, but not before earning several insulting nicknames she never lived down. Nis had stopped changing her appearance after that, afraid the girl would do something irreversibly stupid next.

The girl was endearing, Nis would give her that in a heartbeat. She was too rash, though, and it worried her. She sighed again. "Karis . . ." she glanced about to make sure they were alone, then looked back down to the small Ratonga. "Can ye keep a secret?" At the girl's fervent nod, Nis took a deep breath, convinced herself that the one person who would miss her deserved to know, and continued. "I'm leavin' Freeport. Got a friend who says I can live in pretty Qeynos. Gonna try and get me a better life. When I do, I'm gonna come for ye. And then I'll get ye outta here and over there."

Karis looked up with wide, unblinking eyes while Nis explained things. When she finished speaking, however, Karis broke out into tears. "Nis is leavings Karis!"

"Brell's rings, Karis, not so loud!" Nis hissed under her breath while bringing up a slender finger to quiet the girl. She berated herself for not remembering to take the child's young age into account while explaining – Karis could hardly have comprehended all that with so little explanation, and so late at night. Nis thought of a new way to put her plan, tail twitching from side to side as she did. "No. I'm goin' . . . on a special mission," satisfied that, because the girl did so many chores for those around the township and called them missions, she would understand. "But it's a secret 'un, so ye can't tell any'un. And when I'm done, I'll . . . be given my own place as a reward. And then ye can live with me and we'll be able to take care of ourselves."

Karis shook her head immediately, pouting. "Why can't Karis comes, too? Karis good ats missions, Mister-Guy-Ats-Dock says so!"

"Because . . . because it's very dangerous, Nis. Too dangerous for you."

"Then Nis no goes!" Trying to adhere to Nis's wish for quiet, she did all her wailing under her breath, making a scratchy whisper, but could barely control herself enough to do so. "Nis could gets hurts and kills and not sees Karis agains!"

_I'm just diggin' myself into a hole with her,_ Nis thought with another audible sigh. "I'll be careful, Karis, promise." She knew Karis could hardly be satisfied with the answer, but she was running short on ideas – and on time.

"Then Karis comes and be carefuls, too." She looked up at Nis stubbornly, making her resolve as apparent as possible by grabbing her sister's furless tail and clenching it as though it were her only salvation in the world. "Karis no loses Nis!"

Rubbing her forehead with one hand while keeping the other on Karis's shoulder, Nis stalled for several minutes. During her deliberations, Karis remained perfectly silent and almost stone still, not taking her gaze from Nis nor her paws from the other's tail. She was content to wait as long as necessary so she would not have to be separated from Nis.

Weighing ideas against each other, making mental lists of why she should and should not bring Karis. Nis finally gave a small, tired smile and swayed. "All right, Karis – but," she added quickly, before the younger Ratonga could get a word in edgewise, "under a few conditions. 'Un – ye follow me close 'less I'm fightin'. Two – when I'm fightin', ye find yerself a safe place to hide 'less I tell ye otherwise. Three – iffen I say runs, ye run. And last – ye listen to any other conditions I make later. Agreed?"

Karis put on her most serious face, let go of Nis's tail, and nodded. She would do anything to stay by Nis's side. She nodded, finally heeding perfectly the earlier order of silence. With an exasperated smile and choked down laugh at how horribly ridiculous Karis looked portraying an adult, Nis stood. She held her hand out to Karis and help her up.

"Ye ready for an adventure, then, Karis?"

"Mm-hmm," Karis replied quietly. Without any further thoughts on the matter, the two headed quietly for the docks.


	2. Raindrops

**Chapter Two: Raindrops**

Karis stared at the large waves with awe. People scrambled behind her, the crew shouting orders and trying to get passengers below deck. Clinging tightly to Nis's paw, the pair of Ratonga watched the waves crashing against the bow and shivered as cold rain came down in sheets. Unlike the panic behind them, the two were engaged in a deep conversation, and a promise was made that would haunt one of them for the rest of her life.

The two had easily snuck on board a ship heading out of Temple Street to East Freeport. They only had cargo for company – few people took leisurely boat rides to accomplish whatever kept them out so late at night. Once they snuck off at Easy Freeport, it became a simple matter of buying tickets. Nis surprised Karis when the price of two tickets came out be over a gold piece – and Nis paid without batting an eye. Karis had heard of gold pieces, but never seen one. Even silvers were rare around Temple Street, and the orphans only ever earned small amounts of copper coins.

The thought of how Nis had saved up so much money, however, soon left Karis's mind as she saw the size of the ship to take them out of Freeport.

Karis had never traveled to Freeport proper, only among the hamlets scattered about its high walls. The only water vessels she knew were the small boats that went from one township to another, and the only bodies of water she knew were the calm passages connecting the villages. But here she could not see where the water ended; she could not see the rising sun for the size of the ship.

And once they were allowed on the ship, it did not take Karis long to let her curiosity sate itself. Curiosity only killed the Kerra, after all. Dragging along the older Ratonga, she darted about the deck, tripping up all her words as she tried to relay her excitement verbally. Not even Nis could understand half of what Karis said, but she just smiled and did her best to steer her sister out of trouble. After several unfortunate incidents of Karis running headlong into passengers and crewmembers, Nis took it upon herself to mumble an automatic apology for her sister each time they so much as passed someone.

As the sun finished rising from her watery bed and dressed in her long orange rays, the crew pushed off. They promised smooth seas and calm weather – an uneventful ride to the Thundering Steppes.

They had not expected the massive storm that washed over them just an hour later.

Even as the rain pounded down and lightning flashed across the sky, Karis still scurried about, not satisfied with the base tour given by a cabin boy earlier. Eyes alit with excitement, she made a point of checking behind every crate and peeking into every cabin just to make sure she did not miss anything. She provided Nis with a colorful narrative of the adventure – unheeding of the fact that Nis was there for every step of it.

"Karis thinks is mores funs this ways! Was borings befores!" she yammered through similar lines of thought incessantly so Nis could not get a word in edgewise. Nis, however, had given up trying to talk sense into the spastic girl a half hour before.

"Rains nots so bigs in homes! And bang-bangs nots so louds, and flashies nots so brights, and windies nots so strongs, and wets not so whooshes! How comes things biggsers heres?" Nis knew better than to try and answer, because Karis paused just long enough to take a breath start a new line of thought.

"But musts rains lots heres, yes? Pretty waters bigs and needs muchlies waters. Hey, Nis?" Karis suddenly seemed to calm down, serious look crossing her face as she looked up to the older Ratonga. "Wheres alls this rains comes from?"

Nis did not answer for a moment, expecting the girl to keep talking. When several moments of silence passed, she blinked and looked down at the girl. "It . . . er, what?" Stumbling over her words, she gave Karis a questioning look. It was not only the sudden question that startled her – the reasoning behind the serious query bothered Nis more.

"Wells, Momma uses to says that's rains comes froms gods. But was longs agos and nows everyones says gods go bye-byes. So whys still rains?"

Nis had to pause. The two stopped walking near the bow and looked out to the ocean. Nis noticed Karis's grip tighten around her hand, but the girl said nothing further, waiting for Nis's answer. Sighing, Nis thought about the question. The subject at hand was assaulting them, pouring over them, and Nis felt an answer should have been easy to come across. But it kept eluding her, dancing farther away the more she pondered it. She rarely thought about such things – to her, the rain fell simply because it fell; it was the way of things. Knowing its source would change nothing, so she had never questioned it.

After many long moments of silence, Nis finally gave a defeated shrug. "I dunno, Karis." She felt bad for offering so little of an answer, so she let her mind race in order to come up with anything that made even just a shred of sense. "Maybe there're still gods about. Maybe the water juss likes to play like this. Maybe there's no reason." She cringed at her own lame answers – her mother had been better at giving things wonderful explanations, and even if her ideas were not reality, they were things one wished were true and, slowly, became so for one. Karis was probably still living deep in the world their mother had built around them.

Karis obviously thought the same. "That's answer is _borings_, Nis!" she complained loudly, face changing abruptly into a comical pout.

Laughing quietly, Nis ruffled the fur on top of Karis's head playfully. "Sorry," she apologized with another shrug. "But I really dunno. But I'll tell ye what – I'll go upto the rain 'un day and ask it, mmkays?"

Karis looked up to Nis, still pouting. Karis guesses is okay . . . Buts do its soon! Karis wants to knowses!"

"As soon as possible, kiddo. Promise."

Another careful glance up to Nis finally brought out a nod from Karis. She continued her sober routine for a moment longer, then broke it as a huge wave crashed on the bow and showered the two Ratonga with salty water. "Big waves!" Karis observed with a giggle, clapping her hands. "Big waves like big sparklies," she announced, and shot off into another of her tangled yarns of thought. "But goes whooshes and splashies and weties! Sparklies homes sits and are borings! Looks, Nis!" the excited squeal meant to draw attention was hardly distinguishable from her previous line of thought. "Is greatly bigs big ones!"

Chuckling, Nis followed her leisurely, turning to face the sea again as she got behind Karis.

She barely had time to scream before she was tackled down to the deck.

A massive wave, larger than the ship by at least tenfold, roared towards them. She could the feel the heavy body of a human above her, and managed to catch a glimpse of Karis's confused face pressed into the deck.

The human above them cursed violently. "Ya both 'old on tight, runts – an' pray ta summat!"

Nis's eyes widened as she watched the wave move closer. It seemed to grow larger the more distance it covered. Snapping her head from one side to the other, she saw the panicked confusion spread about the ship. She did not try to question why the man on them would try to help – there were more pressing matters.

She looked to Karis. The wave's shadow was nearly to the deck. With no regard to the fear on Karis's face and in her own chest, she used the last few moments they had to give a final instruction to her little sister.

"'Ris!" she shouted over the panic and the wind and the wave, slyables carelessly tossed away for sake of speed. "Ye survi'. ye get safes. Na matt' if wit' me'r not. Promi-"

The wave crashed down and covered them all in darkness.


	3. Separation

**Chapter Three: Separation**

Karis discovered that it was impossible to cry underwater.

She could not scream. She was shut off from her senses, from her sister, from everything but the cold darkness and her fear.

It took several moments of her head bobbing above the surface for her to register the cleansing air entering her body. She let all other thoughts leave her as she gasped in more breath, gagging on the salt grinding down her throat. It was not until she opened her eyes that she noticed her body moving forward. She realized the man still had an arm around her. In the next moment, she saw that he had nothing in his other arm – the one pulling them forward no longer held Nis in it.

Karis squirmed. "Stops!" she shouted weakly, her voice barely rising above the tumult of the rain and waves. "Karis needs Nis! Whys drops Nis!"

The human merely grunted in response and continued to swim. He managed to keep his grip on the weak Ratonga, but knew he would soon tire. His adventuring days left him with a good deal of strength, but he knew his limits. His eyes searching for drifting wreckage, his body straining against the heavy waves, he had no energy left to respond to the child. _Jush live fer now,_ he silently urged.

And so the struggle continued, both within them and all around, as the passengers who had not lost the fight far below the surface frantically clung to life. No one was superior to this base fight with nature, and few could hope to leave the battlegrounds alive.

The man was an excellent swimmer, as proved by his remarkable progress – but weighed down with the squirming Ratonga and pulling on the water with only one arm, he could feel himself losing the battle. He knew he could easily release the child and better his own chances, but he refused. Holding the tiny life in his arm gave him more reason to continue, and that was more strength to him than the muscle in his other arm.

Karis stopped struggling and closed her eyes, young body giving in to sleep, stress, and strain. In unconsciousness, she could find false hopes, be comforted by an image of new missing sister. The reality around her – a shred of real hope found in a shard of the hull – did not penetrate her dark dream. She would have chosen her fantasy over the world around her if presented with the choice. Nis's mother had taught Karis the wonders of the imagination, how to let one's fancies take some control over reality. She had not lived long enough to teach the girl about the dangers of its overuse. It was just one of many lessons left to Karis to learn on her own.

The man pulled them onto a shattered piece of the ship. He managed to shove Karis fully on the soaked wood and pulled most of his own body near her. He sighed as he looked at her content face. How easy it was for a child's innocence to assure that all was well. How easy for the child to run from the harsh truth of life. He would not want to witness the incident that would tear the last shred of honest innocence from the tiny Ratonga. Shaking his head, he shifted himself, and put one arm over her, the other grasping the edge of the drifting wood, holding them both on.

"Yer makin' this too 'ard on ol' Fenis, ye are," he muttered to Karis, finally resting his head. "But git yer rest, runt. We're gonna make it, ye'll see."

The two floated with the current. Keeping watch, Fenis noted as they passed several survivors, but everyone drifting from the wreck were all too exhausted to lash their floats together. Most were unable to gather enough strength even to speak. The rain began to subside, growing lighter, but the waves still battered the fortunate above the water. To his disappointment, Fenis did not catch sight of the second Ratonga. Losing her complicated matters.

Squire Fenis had been sent to fetch one Ratonga girl. A young woman, the others had said. Peachy fur, tall, earrings. Never said anything about a second Ratonga – and this child definitely was not the one sent for. Upon seeing them, he had been content to take both to Antonica and get them started on making nice with the guards – but with only one, and one he knew nothing about . . . plans had to change. He could not just take her back – she knew Nis, but she had not yet proven loyalty to Qeynos. He could not be certain of her trust or integrity, no matter how innocent she seemed.

With a groan, Fenis lowered his head again. The rain cleared more, slowing to a drizzle. That did nothing to help his current troubles. All of his thinking hurt his head, but he had nothing else to occupy himself with. And each thought led to yarns of ideas that usually led nowhere. One particular thought ended in how convenient it would be if the ocean were full of mead rather than salty water. Another brought him to the conclusion that gnomes had to have somehow invented the Halfling, and if he took one of the latter apart (an image most likely gained due to the fact that a particularly shifty Halfling owned him ten gold), he would fine shiny gears. Another casual thought mused over how pleasant the island in front of them looked. And then how wonderful a Koada'Dal covered in honey would-

Wait. Island. Land.

With a shake of his head, he ended what would have been a pleasant, if naughty, indulgence and squinted ahead. A forested, hilly island did indeed loom ahead of them, obscured by the poor light. Praise whatever was left to praise, they were safe.

He lifted himself a few inches from their improvised raft and starting gauging distances. The tide was flowing towards the island, so the waves would wash them ashore in an hour, if the tide did not reverse. Or, he realized as he pushed himself up a few more inches, he could back to swimming now that he had rested a moment and get there with certainty and more speed. Shaking some splinters from his graying beard and weariness from his bright eyes, he picked up the small Ratonga again and fell back from the board, strong arm pulling them forward once more.

This time, however, he head real hope in his breast.

He fell into an easy rhythm as he swam forward, smile widening every time he looked up and saw the island coming closer. He was tiring as he finally felt his feet drag against thick, soaked sand a half of an hour later. Lifting the limp Ratonga up, he began to walk, panting in each breath. The beach he finally staggered onto looked deserted – but a tower in the distance proved otherwise about the island as a whole. He laid the Ratonga down gently, then fell to the ground beside her, thankful for the dry land (but sure to curse the sand later). He would confront society later, when he had his strength back – and maybe when the Ratonga was awake.

_Ohr mebbe jush tha former_ Fenis thought with a faint grin as he glanced back over to the child, who was now stirring. Pushing himself up, he reached over and gently shook her by the shoulder. Her eyes began to flutter. She turned a little, as if to go back to sleep, when her eyes snapped suddenly open in realization. She sat straight up.

"Nis!" her feeble cry barely left her swollen throat and she crumpled to the ground again. Tears that had been held back by the ocean began to gather in her eyes, wasting no time in spilling down her dripping fur. She stared weakly ahead as she begged to the air for her sister, tiny body trembling.

With a light frown, the human shifted forward and clasped a hand around one of her shoulders. The motion caused Nis to snap her gaze up to Fenis. Her depression quickly turned to rage.

"Why lets go!" she shrieked, roughly pushing his hand away. "Why not keeps Nis toos!"

The man just shook his head feebly, giving a resigned shrug. As Karis balled her small hands up into fists and began to beat weakly on his arm, he merely watched her. Physically, he felt nothing, but emotionally he flinched for the pain he felt from the girl. It did not take the Ratonga long to tire, and she was soon prone in the sand once again.

Fenis tried again, carefully putting his hand on her shoulder. This time, she only winced. When he felt sure would not lash out again, he moved his hand up and began to stroke the top of her head gently. "I'm really very sorry," he said quietly. "I tried ta 'old 'er, but she pushed away an' got free. I think she wanted ye ter live," he added the last few words cautiously, eyes meeting hers with unwavering honesty. When she offered no response, he gave her head one last pat and pushed himself shakily to his feet.

"Fer better ohr fer worst, it's tha two'a us fer now." His light-hearted words did not rise even a stir from the girl, as he had expected. He ran his fingers through his long, unkept hair and sighed. He was sent after the ones that _wanted_to do what he said – he never had been very persuasive on his own. Looking down quietly at the shivering Ratonga, he found no words of comfort to use to placate her. He turned from her to look back out over the ocean.

To add to his growing list of problems, he realized he had no idea what to do about the island. His hope wanted to believe that it belonged to Qeynos, but he knew it was just as possible the land was home to goblins, orcs, or even Freeportians. If it happened to fall into the latter categories, their position would prove quiet difficult. But, Fenis thought with another sigh, the only way for them to know would be to look. The idea of an adventure at his age (he had become a squire as a retirement from adventuring), with a child no less, did not appeal to him. But he had no other choices.

As he hugged a third sigh and turned to pick up the still sobbing Ratonga, though, he soon found his quest sped forward considerably for him.

A band of fully armored Tier'Dal advanced towards them from a leafy outcropping.


	4. Deceptions

Eyes widening, Fenis took several careful steps back, his heel hitting against Karis, the young Ratonga barely reacting. He cursed whoever it was that had promised the mission's safety, had convinced the human that he needed no weapons. He conveniently forgot that he had convinced himself with a mug of mead. He realized after his startled reaction that he might have passed himself off as a Freeport citizen. The notion did not remain long. Even if he could have faked his way out of the dire situation, his principles would not let him. He had escaped Freeport once – he had decided long ago never to pretend he belonged to that hell. His fists clenched, and he steadied himself. Damn if he would go down without a fight!

The ensuing chuckle caught him off guard.

"Why, if it isn't dear Squire Fenis," a voice full of spiteful mirth said, following the cold laugh. A hope of reformed Tier'Dal left Fenis's mind as quickly as it had entered. A woman pushed through from the rear of the force, hollow grin spread across her dark face. The recognition unnerved Fenis – he could not reciprocate the act towards the heavily armored Tier'Dal. He squinted, studying her sharp face. He had left Freeport more than five season turns prior, but he had always prided himself on his memory.

"You have a wonderfully high bounty on your head," she continued in her low voice.

Well, that explained things.

The Tier'Dal continued to walk towards him, an ornate sword soon resting in her gloved hand. Fenis backed another pace, now standing completely over the whimpering Ratonga. He glanced down towards her, then back to the advancing warrior. Why had he stopped that high elf fantasy? Fenis groaned with the thought. Being adrift with no land in sight was a far better fate than this predicament. He wanted to raise up a sword, but he was no thief, and could not disarm any of the elves standing before him.

Karis, large ears twitching back at the sound of a powerful female voice, slowly looked up. She had seen such beautiful, dark-skinned elves before, around the narrow roads of Temple Street and even one on the ship. She did not understand the dangerous situation she lay in the middle of, confused by the elf's grin and Fenis's fear. She pushed herself up several inches.

The movement caught the Tier'Dal's eyes. She cast a casual glance to the wretched, rat-like creature. "Trying to take a few more pests to Qeynos?" she spat, holding now great like for Ratonga (nor any of the other races that shared Freeport), and she found nothing amusing enough about the desolate creature's face to joke about. The coldness sent Karis back to cowering in the sand.

Seeing his chance to at least give the child her life, though now the degree of freedom she might have found in gentle Qeynos, Fenis stepped back again. The Ratonga lay between him and the dark elves. He was quickly resigning himself to his immediate fate (how could an unarmed, weary human hope to escape or defeat a Tier'Dal army with no escape routes in sight?) and saw no reason to deny himself once last chance to perform. Though no bard, the gruff fighter had always delighted in harmless (and sometimes helpful) acts.. He even grinned at the prospect, but the expression spread across his face as a malicious smile.

He toppled the child over with a nudge of his boot, sending her face-forward once again into the sand. Before any gathered, even Karis, could raise a voice in protest or question, he shook his head and gave a hollow laugh. The sound sent a shudder down the Ratonga's spine as her mind raced with questions.

"Not a chance," he sneered coldly, inwardly applauding himself for the perfect inflection. "Ah came fer summ'un else, ba 'e was swallowed by tha sea. Ah thought Ah might try ter bring tha first rat ter Qeynos . . ." he paused for dramatic effect, grinning as he baited in the listening dark elves, but careful to resume weaving his tale quickly, so that Karis would not interject with the truth. "Tha runt refused me offer!" he shouted indignantly after as long as he dared to wait, chuckling on the inside as he watched the gathered soldiers jump back. "Rue tha day that Qeynos shelters such filth!"

It was a blatant lie, he knew. Several Ratonga had found their home in Qeynos already, but he hoped the gathered Tier'Dal were ignorant of that fact. He had also never mentioned Qeynos to Karis, let alone ask her to travel there, but he hoped the girl would either recognize his ruse or be too stunned to reject his tale. Risking a concerned glance down, it pained him to realize her silence came from the latter scenario. A frown began to cross his face, but he quickly contorted it to an angry twitch. He glared back up to the dark elves.

The Tier'Dal commander looked from Fenis to Karis, scowl across her face. She would have found great content in sliding her sword across the rat's throat, but such a matter was for another to sort out. No one would question a dead rat, common sense stayed her sword and bringing in such a high bounty placated her. She motioned forward the two closest soldiers.

"Take the girl to Inquisitor Balar and let him have his way with her." The two nodded and moved forward, hostilely pulling the Ratonga to her feet.

Karis groaned, body still weak from her struggles against both the water and the devil who had saved her. Her mind had not yet grasped everything around her, and new thoughts moved sluggishly through her ideas. Cold metal pinched at her skin as the dark elves dragged her forward by her arms. Not caring even to lessen the physical pain, dulled in comparison to the emotional torment, she let her bare feet pull through the sand. She cast a final look back to the human, still too stunned by his lies to try to speak.

Were the Tier'Dal not watching him, Fenis would have given the girl a wink and a comforting smile. He could only continue to glare at her, wondering if he had chosen the right course. Would a quick death have been kinder, a better fate than setting the broken child against a seasoned inquisitor? Death might still await her at the interrogator's discretion, and even if she lived, death would always loom around her back in Freeport. The idea tugged at Fenis's heart, and he thought, nor for the last time, that the Tier'Dal putting a dagger in her heart might have been more merciful. He breathed back his sigh and looked back up to the dark elves.

The problem of the rat out of sight, and soon out of mind, the commander found her cold smirk again. She glanced back to her warriors, barking a few commands in Thexian, and nodded as all but two of her small army turned to set back to the island's stronghold. Large groups always spoiled her fun.

"Well, Fenis," she said quietly, the excitable edge in her voice sending a chill down Fenis's back, "we've a long way to go together. The Militia will be quite glad to finally have a live squire in its grasp, though I'm sure that adjective will only last a few days."

Fenis had to bite back his grin, even as the Tier'Dal added on such grim news.

They wanted him alive? The prospect of traveling all the way back to Freeport, with the obviously sadistic dark elf, daunted him . . . but he could not deny the hope that outlook gave him. He kept a frown on his face as the two remaining warriors locked heavy manacles around his wrists, and shuddered honestly as the Tier'Dal commander cast him a grin and began to march him to the dock. But inside, he laugh, smiled, and nearly danced.

Perhaps that would not be his final performance.


	5. Divulgence

**Chapter Five: Divulgence**

Forced to walk for fear of losing her feet to one of the many sharp rocks of the island's center, Karis trudged between the two rough Tier'Dal. She kept her gaze cast downwards, hardly seeing anything. Her young mind still struggled to comprehend the events of the last few hours. How quickly her world had turned upside down – the sun was just beginning to rise, and her life had seemed perfectly normal when it had set.

What happened?

The two dark elves stopped outside the tower Fenis had seen after coming ashore. Karis hardly noticed the tall, rough structure before her captors dragged her inside. The poorly hewn floor scraped at the Ratonga's already torn feet, and a dull trail of blood followed her, leading from the entrance to a sparsely furnished room up two flights of stairs.

Without a glance to the trembling life between them, the stoic pair of elves shoved Karis into the room. She nearly toppled into an Iksar who sat, hunched miserably, near the door.

"Your next visitor, High Inquisitor," one of the Tier'Dal said curtly. Not waiting for the addressee to show himself, the elves turned and stalked back down the stairs.

Karis stood uncertainly, shifting from injured foot to injured foot, thin arms wrapped tightly about her tiny body. Though quick to believe anything obvious, even Karis could realize that the only occupant of the room, the brooding Iksar, was not the High Inquisitor. Her dark eyes glanced about, then settled on the floor, uncomfortable near the lizard-man. Even sitting, he was taller than her, and though he made no threatening movements, his narrow eyes and sharp claws still unnerved the young Ratonga, who had never before seen one of his kind.

Before either could move or speak a word to the other, a grumbling voice sounded from a corner of the room. Karis looked up quickly, eyes widening as she was a tall half-elf walk from a previously empty side of the room. Tail twitching nervously, Karis stumbled back, holding herself tighter. The Iksar, having seen the man's entrance once before, just sat, unmoving.

Smoothing out his dark robes, the tanned Ayr'Dal looked over the shaking Ratonga. He continued to mutter discontentedly, blowing his red bands out of his face. After assessing the girl, he sighed and rubbed his temples, fingers brushing against his many facial piercings.

"Stupid Tier'Dal, suspicious of every-bloody-thing," he grumbled. "Little girl's gonna betray Freeport after nearly drowning." His harsh voice drowned out his words, frightening Karis even more. He watched impassively as she stumbled back, falling to the ground and curling up pitifully. He then sighed and shook his head.

"Look, child, calm down. I'm not about to hurt you, all right? Stupid inkies're just afraid of you, and any-bloody-thing that moves."

Karis continued to look up in fear, drawing another, longer sigh from the Inquisitor. "It's too early for this," he mumbled, taking long strides to stand over the girl. He blew at his wild bands again and folded his arms, keeping a steady gaze trained on the girl's face. She averted her eyes whenever he tried to lock eyes with her, so he finally gave up and grabbed at her ragged shirt, heaving Karis to her feet.

"I'm not much good with the nice guy thing, kid," he said roughly. "I just do my job, okay? And right now my job's to make sure you're not some traitor what's gonna blow up Freeport when –_if_– we let you back. I'm not doing this to be mean, but I have a nasty temper and no patience." He gave another sigh – he hated explaining so much. "Now, look, either you tell me your story and answer my questions, and I just make sure you're telling the truth . . . or I get nasty and find the information my own way. That way's not very pleasant." Another sigh broke his description. It took a good deal of concentration on his part to speak slowly, without snapping at the child.

"Do you understand?" he asked at length.

Karis responded with a shaky nod.

"Good enough," the half-elf grumbled, then led the Ratonga to a hard, wooden stool, sitting her down. He cast a glance over his shoulder to the Iksar. "You can leave now. Should be an empty room down the hall. Stay there."

The Iksar looked slowly over to the Inquisitor, wide eyes staring at him. He then finally nodded his large head and stood slowly, scales scraping against themselves as he shambled out of the room. The Inquisitor sighed – with the Iksar's description of a boat wreck earlier, he had no doubt that there would be a lot of work for him that day. He hated work.

He turned his attention back to the Ratonga, standing in front of her with his hands on his hips. "All right, let's get this over with quick, okay? I'm sure I'll be having a busy day today. I'm High Inquisitor Valen Balor," he said with a tiny bow that only included a nod of his head. After a pause, he frowned and added, "Your turn."

Karis bit at her lip, shifting uncomfortably. "Kah-Karis," she finally stammered, looking down.

Valen nodded once. "Well, then, Karis – basics first. Age?"

Eyes still trained on the floor, she mumbled her answer. "Al-Almost fifteen, Karis thinks."

"Thinks?"

"Er . . . uh . . . Karis orphan when littles. Not remember goods. New family guesses Karis's age," she explained hurriedly, blood rushing to her cheeks, flush hidden by her fur.

"I see," he said off-handedly. "Where did you live before staying with that family, then?"

"Karis not remembers wheres at. Undergrounds. Just knows was rocks everywheres."

"And where did your new family live?"

"Nears cave. Gots foods and furs and warms and sharpies from outsides. Cave not safes deep. Was nears city."

Valen paused to understand the girl's strange vocabulary, peculiar grammar, and hurried speech. "Why did you need a new family?" he finally asked, satisfied with her summary.

Karis shifted. For as little as she could remember of her first family, her real family, she could vividly remember the night that had shattered her home. "Big fire," she finally said in a hushed voice. "Brights and hots and all-overs. Destroyeds everything. Karis . . . Karis makes," she said, voice hushing as it broke and she swallowed back tears. "Karis not means, finds stick and stones and wraps in cavern, plays withs. Finds scroll and wants to see if its burns toos . . . Makes sparkies and fires and Karis thought pretties, not scaries . . . Karis not knows! Did not means! Burns and goes everywhere . . ."

The Ratonga had often cried over that day in the years had had followed the horrible incident. She had spent the last season not thinking of it, though. The tears, however, were still light, no matter the depth of her sadness, merely leftovers from her sobbing fit on the beach. She rubbed at her face with a dirty paw, heaving in some breaths.

Valen hardly reacted. Sob stories were common. It had one oddity, however - rarely did an individual honestly let the blame fall on his shoulders, even in an accident. Her honesty did not touch him, but he stored the information.

With a few more deep, shaky breaths, Karis found her voice once again. "Karis runs, gets out," she continued, wanting badly to move on in her forced narration. "No one elses did. All gones."

Another nod was all her trembling conclusions drew from Valen. "And so you found another Ratonga clan to take you in?" he continued emotionlessly, more interested in the timeline than her feelings. He was satisfied with her nod of a response. "Were they all on the boat with you?"

"No. . . " Karis replied hesitantly. "All . . . all buts sister gone befores."

"Oh?"

When he said nothing further, Karis realized he wanted her to expand on her vauge statement. She drew in another deep breath. "Lives with new familys for long times, with happies. But thens . . . family attackeds. Only Karis and Nis escapes."

"Nis?"

Speaking her name was difficult, the syllable leaving her dry throat garbled, but to hear it echoed back to her stung. She looked down. "Big sister. Karis tries to be likes. Is . . ." she paused, considering her words. Is? The present? She had little grasp on the difference between past tense and present tense, but she knew she should have been using the past tense. Past for things no longer in the present. But she could not bring herself to do so. "Is best friend and nices. Karis loves."

"I see." He paused and nodded to remember the name to learn what had happened to this Ratonga, then continued. "Do you know who attacked you?"

"Bigs group of others . . . humans and elfses and big gnomey things. Was in lots of armors and with big sharpies and louds." She trembled as she recalled the vicious attack, still unable to grasp al that had happened that day. She tried to mumble a few more things, expand on the memory, but it all came out as incoherently as her thoughts.

A small frown twitched across Valen's face as he gave thought to the past. "These attackers, do you remember if they had an emblem on their armor?"

Karis bit at her lower lip again, wringing her hands as she tried to recall details of the blur that had taken nearly everything she knew. She had never given much thought to the details of those that had attacked, regarding them only as mean, evil creatures, monsters. She could give little more than a shrug. "Maybes. Karis . . . not remembers. Not looks. Too much scareds and has confuseds. Not know, not -" she caught her own rambling and curled up a little more, sighing. "Sorries."

Valen just rubbed his chin, thinking. His curiosity, that which had brought him to take his job, tugged at his mind, drew him to want - need - to delve deep into coincidences. This was just such a coincidence. "When was this?" he finally asked.

"Almost two season turnses, Karis thinks."

Valen nodded. "Did you speak the common tongue at that time? Did you understand any of what they said?"

"Karis learning common thens," she said with a small nod. "Knows little. Remembers little words, thoughs. Says . . . says Rats're bads - but nots! Not doings anything! Livings, beings, likes alls other, not botherings, or nothings! Not means, not-" Valen cut her off with a raised hand and a stern glare.

"What they said, that's all I asked."

Karis sighed as she looked down and tried to recollect herself. She fidgeted, tugging at her fingers. "They says Rats bads and needs kill first befores city," she finally said, looking down. "Nis hides Karis and says to no moveses, and Karis not seens but sees and can't cries, but wants to. Means things kills momma ands poppa ands elders ands little-littles Karis hads to watches. Nis hides other places and gets Karis lots of times afters and takes away. Only Karis and Nis liveses. Mean things goes to city, but not comes back. Nis takes Karis to city and lives on Temple Street with others withs no family."

Valen watched Karis shifted again with the shaky close of yet another story, pulling herself into a tighter ball of matted fur, looking down. Given her age, how long ago her tragedy occurred, and her description of the invaders, he had little doubt of who had left the two Ratonga homeless. And if he was right, a sect of people from the same group was the reason for the small Freeportian army stationed on the island.

And maybe they had just gained their second revenge-driven soldier.

He dropped his hand from his face, eyes still trained on the Ratonga, but most of his mind elsewhere. His past had a similar event, his small clan of family slaughtered by Qeysonian soldiers of their way to Freeport. The group of half-elves had tried to make a living out in the Commonlands, scavenging and scraping by much like the Ratongas had. The raiding Qeynos group, rallying under the cry of one guild, had also destroyed his replacement family. He survived by a fluke, out gathering berries and herbs, only to return to a bloodied mess of bodies, mercilessly torn apart. This sorrow, that from a young man already accustomed to hardships and solitude, was not nearly as sharp as the child's. His feelings had before been long dulled by years of experience.

He thus offered no soft comfort to the quietly sobbing Ratonga. He had long since disregarded such warm compassion as weakness. Kindness was a lie in the corrupted world, or at least the corrupted city, they lived in. The girl would need strength to survive, not love, and he wanted her to survive.

His rough hand grabbed Karis's chin, lifting her gaze back up to his face. She squirmed uncomfortably, more tears pouring down the slicked tracks sunk into her dark fur. Valen studied her for several long moments.

Her tiny limbs, weakened from malnourishment, would provide her with little physical strength. Her quivering body evidenced her low stamina, showed her exhaustion from both the physical and emotional stress of that night. She was small, hardly educated, unequipped, sensitive, and likely unskilled. Life had broken her, and it would take time to put the pieces back together. She appeared, all in all, rather useless.

But she was young. She was malleable. She was, most importantly, distressed and in need of a guiding hand. She could be turned into what he and the Freeport army needed.

Karis swallowed hard, trying to pull away from the strong half-elf. Twisting her small body, she slipped away, and tumbled back off the stool, whimpering as she hit the stone floor. She could not understand the man's sudden change. He asked her no more verbal questions and assaulted her. Had she answered a question wrong? Was she supposed to lie? Did he think she had lied? She hadn't! She curled up again. She only wanted to leave, find her way back home and hope futilely for her sister to return.

With an annoyed sigh, Valen reached down and hoisted Karis back to the stool. He would have to out-fit the child, both with clothing and weapons. She needed food and medical care, and likely a degree of emotional repair. And some, he knew, emotional manipulation. He could provide all that, and she could then be taught. Taught to kill, taught of avenge, taught of survive, and taught to be obedient to Freeport. After another long moment, he nodded.

She would do.

"That's quite a life you've had so far," he said, concentrating on keeping his voice soft and even. "But it looks like you haven't got much to go back to, do you? So I've got a . . . a deal for you."

Karis looked up, ears laid back against her head, dark eyes narrowed in confusion. She remained silent, unsure of his motives.

"You've, what, a dilapidated orphanage to return to? Return to alone? Not much. Stay here," he said as he leaned in closer, voice softer than it had ever been. He needed to approach this carefully. "I'll give you some things, then you help us with our mission. If you do good, we'll send you back with some coin – at least enough to buy your own hovel. What've you got to lose?"

Shifting uneasily, Karis looked down, hundreds of thoughts running through her head. Admittedly, going back to Temple Street without Nis daunted the young her. The city had always frightened the small Ratonga, and trying to live there alone did not appeal to her. She squirmed in her seat, not wanting to have to make a decision. She was dependent, a followed – she wanted orders, to live by another's ideas. She could avoid guilt that, and hardship. Always she followed the lead of her brethren, her birth mother in years past and Nis for most of her memory. Another Ratonga could not now tell her what she should do. She ha retaliated against the human because he represented a difference – she was waiting for Nis to return.

Nis would not return. She had no one to follow now. No one except . . .

Almost against her will, Karis raised her gaze back to the Inquisitor, her long fingers tangling together as she rubbed her hands nervously. He, while cold, had shown her the most kindness, if it could be called that, of any on the island. She had no reason to mistrust him – and she was otherwise very alone. She needed an anchor, even if her heart ached in guilt for being so fickle. She would cry for losing Nis, and she would cry often. It did not change the fact that she needed a guide for her present existence.

She needed the young man before her.

Valen waited as patiently as he could; only tapping his foot as he watched her deliberate, the decision both difficult and simple for her. He had easily guessed her dependent nature, and the clash of morals only lasted for a few moments. He was not surprised as she finally unclasped her hands and took a deep breath.

"Karis will stays."


	6. Scuffles

"Stop favoring your right side, Karis." Valen sighed as he studied the young Ratonga. "Feint to the left, then strike. Your speed's your only asset right now, so use it. Always keep away from your opponent." Pushing back his unruly bangs, the half elf sighed again. In the few short days since Karis had arrived, the girl had made progress. The first day, she did not even know how to hold a sword. On this third day, she still lacked finesse, but she had taught her thin fingers to keep a grip on the sword and could keep herself from falling over when swinging the blade around. In spite of himself, Valen was impressed with her improvement.

The Tier'Dal, however, were not.

The female guards complained louder with each passing day. Though he did not care for what the dark elves said, he knew their taunts affected Karis, held her back from becoming even better. It did not matter how many times he told the Ratonga to ignore the venomous words from the guards, she always took their insults to heart. He had to remind her every night that so long as she had worth to Freeport she had worth on that island, that she was just as important as the haughty dark elves. He had looked forward to manipulating her dependence, teaching her out of it while he used it to mold her to his liking. The dark elves had caught on and learned to influence the girl with the same methods, however, and left the High Inquisitor with more headaches than he had predicted.

Karis frowned lightly as she caught sight of Valen's sour look. She could not guess that his scowl was directed to the absent Tier'Dal guards, and so gritted her teeth and tried to concentrate even harder on her task. Focusing her dark eyes onto the battered stick before her, the Ratonga stumbled and tried to find her footing. She had never been able to afford boots, and so had never been so separated from the ground. Her paw-like feet were used to digging into the dirt, not hard leather. It took her several moments to steady herself, then she lunged at the stick.

Twisting the sword and her body, Karis danced around her immobile enemy. Even so halted by the restrictive boots, she moved with a strange grace, though it did not yet extend to her blade. She had long ago honed her ability to control, to the smallest movement, the motions of her body; to move to an easy, elegant beat. Her strikes barely nicked the wood she fought, but the small marks multiplied, and Karis was never in one place for more than a moment.

Valen had managed to learn a little about her remarkable agility. Something about an ancient dance for an ancient Ratonga; the girl, compliant though she was with any other question, remained tight-lipped about this particular tradition. Training her left him no free time to pry, however, so he left the secret alone. Given enough time, he was sure he would learn about this strange dance, and that promise of clandestine information placated him.

"All right, Karis, that's enough." Valen straightened his robes and pushed back his hair once more. "It's time to break for a meal. Come here."

Ears twitching as she heard Valen's command, Karis gave one last nick to the inanimate opponent and sheathed her sword. She scampered over to the half-elf, immediately pulling off her boots. Valen shook his head with a sigh, but said nothing. He sat down, back against a large boulder, and raised his hands. The Ratonga scooted in closer, eyes bright as she watched Valen move his fingers in intricate motions. Though she had watched him summon their food several times now, she still looked on in awe as the air tingled and lunch appeared. Though a simple feat of moving the lunch he had laid out in his room to where they ate, Karis could not comprehend just how he twisted magic to his will.

With a nod, Valen handed the girl a chunk of bread while she reached out for cheese with her other hand. While she nibbled hungrily at the food, the half-elf leaned back and stretched. His sharp eyes never left her, even as he took large bites from the ruddy apple in his hand. He constantly observed the girl, having always been curious about the mysterious Ratonga. He was curious about everything, but he preferred first-hand experience to reading, and he doubted he would ever have a chance to so well study one of the strange, little, rat-like race. He had not yet determined if her abnormal reliance and dependency was the norm or her own behavior, but he had begun to understand their basic mindset. Karis even taught him a few words of Ratongan, though she had been reluctant about it. But for as much as he asked of her, she asked for nothing in return.

That was because Karis had a secret. Growing up with nothing, she never learned to want anything. The only thing she desired was praise and companionship. She never had enough to eat, but she always had someone to talk to and follow, to show her what she did right and what she did wrong. She had never learned to live without this guidance, though she had learned to go weeks with only tiny scraps of food. She never realized how emotionally and physically damaging this adaptation had been to her.

As Karis had finished half her piece of bread, there was a loud commotion heard closer to the barracks. Her rat-like ears twitched and Valen's head snapped up, and both looked immediately towards the sounds. The half-elf was up before Karis, barely casting her a glance as he began to run towards the noise. The girl, much more used to strange noises than having a full belly, stuffed the rest of the bread and cheese into her mouth and scampered after, chewing frantically at her food as she did.

By the time the two reached the barracks, any fighting that may have occurred had passed, and the Tier'Dal were regrouping, spatting angry curses to the air. Karis tilted her head in confusion as the strange language washed over her, but Valen frowned. He approached cautiously – he had long ago learned not to advance on an angered Tier'Dal – and remarked gruffly.

"A small group raids us and all you do is stand around and complain?"

The tallest elf turned an angry eye on Valen, towering over him to remind the man of the pecking order among the small band. "You were not around to assist, so I will not hear of any complaints from you or your raggedy ward," she snapped, casting a short glare to Karis. Her venomous gaze soon fixed itself on Valen once more. "They did not have the chance to take anything, but they are getting bolder. That is the only reason for concern. We were more than able to fight them back, even without your . . . special help."

With a scowl, the half-elf averted his gaze and accepted the retort. "I doubt, though," he said even as he looked past her shoulder, "that you will fare so well next time, Captain K'Raeligh. You need more than your mindless brute strength to beat back these people."

K'Raeligh slammed a heavy hand onto Valen's thin shoulder and pushed him back until he hit the wall near the door frame. She glared at him through narrowed eyes, but checked herself before she continued her assault. Dissent among such thin ranks was frowned upon, and she would bring no shame down upon her band for the sake of a worthless male half-breed. With a final rough squeeze, she let go and turned her back to the half-elf.

And met the sight of a small, angry Ratonga.

"Leaves Valen alones!" Karis shrieked. Already completely attached to the man, especially since she had lost her previous anchor of Nis, the child did not take well to others threatening the representation of her well-being. Though weaponless, as she had left her sword near her boots far outside, she seemed oblivious to the danger she was uselessly throwing herself into. "Is not nices to pushes others, means lady!"

Torn between further anger and disbelieving mirth, K'Raeligh did as any Tier'Dal might with two such emotions. She acted upon both. With a hearty laugh, she swept out a heavily-muscled arm to knock Karis to the rough floor. She knelt down beside her squirming opponent and pinned the Ratonga to the ground with only one rough hand, the other wrapping around her throat and applying pressure. "Life is not very nice, little girl," she said in an amused tone, even as she glared at the child. "And it is a good deal harder when you stick your neck out when you should not. I suggest you keep that in mind," she said as she slowly lifted her hand from the child's throat. "Next time I may not stay my hand."

Shaking and still prone on the ground, Karis only risked a small peek up at the Tier'Dal as she curled up tightly. Valen gave the captain a short glare, then strode forward, scooping the small Ratonga into his arms. He would have to get her back to training, make her forget the assault. He offered a curt bow to the Tier'Dal band, then turned to leave.

A flaming arrow whistled past his shoulder as he did.

Valen joined the chorus of startled yells as he clutched Karis closer and jumped away from the fire. K'Raeligh and her band immediately drew their swords, shouting out a jumble of war cries as they rushed outside. Valen watched, his frown deepening. He set Karis down.

"Let's go," he said, not waiting for a response as he pushed back the sleeves on his robe and walked outside. The Ratonga paused for a moment, her tail twitching, then followed the half-elf, hunched down as she scampered behind him. Before, she had only ever hid. She had never thought of confronting an attack to put an end to it.

As they approached, K'Raeligh scowled and turned. "They ran off already," she snapped, fist clenching about the hilt of her sword. She looked down to Karis. "You, runt. You pride yourself on your speed, right? Go prove your worth and follow them."

"Wait." Valen stepped in front of Karis, frowning. "She's not ready to do something like that. She's still training. She won't know what to do when she finds them."

K'Raeligh just smirked. "Well, she better learn fast on her feet, then." She pushed Valen aside and pulled the Ratonga forward, giving her a shake. "You had better hurry. You would not want to lose their trail. Just find where they are hiding and come back."

The closest Tier'Dal snickered. "Try not to get caught. They will probably make jerky out of you."

Valen pulled Karis aside, glaring at the dark elves. "She'll do her job better if you'll just stay out of it." He knelt down before the girl. "Just do as they say, all right? Get going fast, and you can follow them and stay hidden. Don't try anything stupid, just learn where they are. Got it?"

Karis could only stare up at Valen for a moment, still trying to understand the conversation that had just flown around her. Between being pulled each way and hearing a rush of words, she still felt confused. But at a nod from Valen, she bit her lip and stood straight.

"Okay. Karis go fasts and finds out for yous and tells fasts."

"Good. Get going now," Valen said, patting her on the shoulder and stepping back. "Fast as you can."

Karis had not even waited for Valen to finish speaking. His fingers only brushed her shoulder and she was off into the underbrush before she could hear the snickers of the Tier'Dal.

K'Raeligh turned away, laughing. "We will have one less rat to feed tonight."


End file.
